


One More Night

by madeitsimple



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 12:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16175519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeitsimple/pseuds/madeitsimple
Summary: The boys get to go home. Coda to 9.01.





	One More Night

“You’re going to ignore me, but I’m going to say it anyway. You should go to the hospital, get checked out,” Danny says. They’re sitting in the back of an ambulance outside the SS Arcturus as HPD and the CIA run slipshod over the ship, gathering evidence, taking away dead bodies. The fallout from a crime scene this large is going to take days, not hours, and Danny groans inwardly thinking about the mountain of paperwork ahead. 

“Danny, I’m fine.”

Steve had grudgingly submitted to a cursory EMT examination (“You should really get a full CT scan, Commander”) but Danny knew the odds of going to the hospital were slim to none. 

“I know, I know, you’re fine. I can tell by the deep bruising around your neck from when you were choked that you’re fine,” he snapped. “You were just subjected to some crazy brainwashing techniques and now your head is probably even more screwy than it was before, but yeah, sure, you’re fine.” 

“Danny….” Steve lets out a sigh, his shoulders slumping just a bit. He’s wrecked. Danny knows he’s wrecked.

“OK,OK, you’re fine,” Danny relents. It’s almost 3am and he can feel the headache and shakes that come after such an intense adrenaline spike. 6 hours of waiting and the fire fight had been over in 10 minutes. 

“Come on, I just want to go home,” Steve says, tipping his head slightly forward, resting it briefly against his partner’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, alright you goof, let’s go,” Danny says, giving Steve’s neck a quick squeeze. He’s shirtless and shivering slightly in the humid air. Danny tugs the blanket a little tighter around Steve’s shoulders. 

They’re quiet on the way home, both of them too spent to say much of anything. Tomorrow, Danny will prod and needle and nag until Steve spills at least a little of what the sensory deprivation tank was like, but right now his own mind is racing, trying to process the images of Steve thrashing in the water, the life being choked out of him. He’s seen Steve beaten and bruised far too often and much worse than this, but it’s become harder for Danny to shake it off. Maybe it’s because they’re both older, or much closer, but he knows it will be a while before he’ll forget the image of Steve’s blank, sputtering face.

He pulls the car into the driveway and looks over at Steve, his eyes closed and head tipped back, and feels equal parts annoyance and affection. He’s never loved anyone like he loves Steve, and that was before they’d started sleeping together. Right now, he can’t shake the worry that their luck is bound to run out at some point. That one time, he’ll be a little too late, or the shot will go wide, or Steve won’t miraculously bounce back. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty, let’s go,” Danny says, his voice gentle. He restrains himself from trying to help Steve out of the car, flinching internally when he sees Steve’s stiff movements. 

Inside, Danny maneuvers them both up the stairs, only taking the time to relieve his bladder before crashing into bed. Steve drops his pants, pulls on a t-shirt and crawls in next to him, the bravado from earlier finally disappearing. 

“Come here,” Danny says, pulling Steve into his arms. He goes willingly, burying his face against Danny’s side. He’s vibrating with exhaustion, and Danny pulls him in tighter, his fingertips brushing along Steve’s back. 

“You’re so dumb, you know that,” Danny says softly. “Making me worry about you like this. 6 hours, McGarrett. 6 hours just waiting in the dark, wondering if you were dead or alive or being tortured or whatever. Jesus Christ.” 

Steve makes a small noise and squeezes him briefly as an apology. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Danny grumbles. “I don’t think you really mean it, but I’ll take it.” 

It’s still dark, but Danny can see the outline of bruises along Steve’s neck and face, which are going to be a real bitch in the next few days. Steve’s voice is already a little horse, his larynx bruised. 

They’ve been through this before, a few times, and he knows Steve will be sore tomorrow, but also quiet and retreat into himself. It’s taken Danny years to figure out this pattern, to how to be there for him without being pushy, how to give him space without letting him fall into isolation. It’s a difficult balance, one that he’s messed up many times before. 

Sighing, Danny concentrates on the feel of McGarrett, alive and solid, in this arms. He catalogues the weight of him, pressed up against his side, the tip of Steve’s head against his shoulder, the feel of Steve’s favorite blue, HPD t-shirt against his fingers. Steve’s usually a shirtless sleeper, they both are, and Danny wonders why he needed an extra layer of protection tonight. 

He’s tired but he won’t sleep well, he knows that already, there’s too much buzzing around in his head to really rest, but Danny shuts his eyes anyway, trying to replace his anxiety with gratitude that he gets to have one more night with Steve.


End file.
